The Grey Tower

The name didn't ring any bells, but Kiira was sure she would cause an egregious offense if she said that, but her face was a picture of confusion and the man before her looked a little crestfallen.

"Have I been away so long?" He hummed to himself and turned away, waving a hand and the flames in the fire got a little higher, as though he commanded it.

Kiira stared at the flames for a moment, caught off guard by it all. He scoffed at himself as he plopped himself down in his chair and Kiira's eyes followed his movements, bewildered by his attitude. None of what he was doing made any sense and she was concluding that she was trapped with a madman. The thick curtains even shut out the distinct salt of the air and she stayed close to the door, not that it would help given it was locked.
"So" His palms slapped on his thighs, cracking through the silence. He didn't turn around though, instead he seemed to be watching the flames.
"You made it into this place, but you don't remember how. Curious." He concluded to himself as he spoke mostly to thin air and Kiira shifted, uncomfortably as she tried to get a better look at his expression, as though it would hold all the answers she needed to hear.

"And you know nothing of Arius?" His voice was softer now, thoughtful. He still gave nothing away as he spoke, and she was unsure how to read him. Kiira had no idea if she should be terrified or disturbed, so decided on a mix of both. Something clicked in her mind then, the tower from the outside was crumbling, worn by the harsh elements and yet there was scarcely a breeze in here. This room should have had holes and crumbling foundations. Yet, here it stood, a testament of once grandeur. Kiira's silence seemed to make him impatient and he gestured to the stool she had almost tripped over earlier and the red-head moved to take a seat, more concerned about the consequences if she declined his offer and his eyes were fixated on the fire, as she had first thought when she could no longer see his face.

"I was born in Greymouth a long time ago, before your great-great grandfather." He hummed and Kiira stared at him, not believing a word, he would be over one hundred if that were even remotely true.

"I was taken in by Ezreen, she lived in the Tower before I ever did. In time, she left. Likely dead now, or she has finally become one with those trees she desperately enjoyed speaking with." He mused and his fingers brushed by his chin at the thought.

"I became the protector of Greymouth in her stead. For years, I entertained children with mystical lights, dazzling displays and kept Greymouth safe from threats. Everything you could imagine, travelling armies, wolves, even a dragon once." He said and Kiira couldn't hold back the snort. Arius cast her a threatening look and she quickly quelled her sound and looked away. Dragons! This man claimed to have fought off a dragon, those were storybook tales, no one had mentioned dragons seriously since her grandfather and even then, they had been the rambles of an old man.

"Sorry, if you did all of that, why would you be holed up here? Surely everyone would be desperate to meet you." Kira pointed out, a fair enough question given the circumstances and she thought that maybe she could get him to understand his own insanity if she poked enough holes in his story. That was all it was, a story.
"Ah, yes. I was getting to that." He retorted to her, rather curtly and Kiira raised an eyebrow, he liked the sound of his own voice, then.
"Around fifty years ago, perhaps a little more, there was a sickness. They called it the Black Rot. Nothing I could do would help; I did try everything. Herbs, potions, every scroll I owned. Nothing stopped it." Kiira knew of the Black Rot. Many still spoke of it, it had decimated families and had not discriminated between young or old. The richest Lords caught it, the same as the poorest beggar.

"People blamed me, I suppose." Arius continued, he had a strange look to him, his eyes dark and cast in shadow for a while at the memories. Black Rot must have been a terrible thing to see,
"It rots your flesh, patches of black appear and it's too late. I never got it, I was lucky." He explained with a shrug, it had only been good fortune that he had never fallen to the sickness. It had killed so many, Kiira knew the stories of how it had choked the life from limbs and lungs alike. Once you got the disease, it was over. There had even been stories of mothers throttling their own children to save them from the long death, the suffering. They all spoke about it.